Whittemore 

Reminiscences  of  the 
Civil  War 


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REMINISCENCES 


OF  THE- 


CIVIL  WAR 


e 


BY  W.  B.  WHITTEMORE 

PUTNAM.  CONNECnCIJT 


Reminiscences   of  the    Civil   War 


BY- 


W.  B.  \\fHITTEMORE 

PUTNAM,  CONN. 


PREFACE. 


The  following  story  was  written  by  a  soldier  for  the 
purpose  of  preserving  a  record  of  the  time  he  served  in 
the  great  struggle  of  the  Civil  War  between  the  North  and 
the  South.  It  tells  of  what  he  saw  and  did  as  a  boy  private. 
It  also  tells  of  camp  life,  with  its  discipline,  and  its  fun. 
It  tells  of  the  night  and  day  marches,  and  of  the  hardships 
and  the  intense  suffering  that  the  soldiers  had  to  endure. 
The  writer  tells  of  the  battles  as  he  saw  them,  and  the  part 
he  took  in  them,  battles  bravely  fought  to  keep  Old  Glory 
waving  over  all  United  States.  The  story  gives  a  very 
clear  outline  of  the  writer's  enlistment  until  he  was  dis- 
charged from  the  United  States  Armv. 


Printed  by  Raymond  R.  Evans, 

Putnam,  Conn. 

1911. 


:3^ 


William  B-  Whittemore 

(Photo  taken  1910) 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2010  with  funding  from 

Boston  Library  Consortium  IVIember  Libraries 


http://www.archive.org/details/reminiscencesofcOOwhit 


CHAPTER  I 


Where  and  When  I  Enlisted.    Camp  Life, 
and  Our  First  March. 


Abraham  Lincoln  said  in  his  Gettysberg  address  on 
the  battlefield,  '  'The  world  may  forget  what  we  say  here, 
but  they  can  never  forget  what  they  did  here.  The  brave 
men  living  and  dead  who  fought  here  have  consecrated  it 
far  beyond  our  power. ''  However,  it  is  impossible  for  the 
world  to  know  the  story  of  each  man's  hfe  in  that  great 
Civil  War,  so  I  wish  to  leave  my  children  and  grand-children 
an  account  of  my  life,  that  they  may  know  that  William  B. 
Whittemore  was  a  loyal,  true-hearted  soldier  in  those  self- 
sacrificing  days.  But  before  I  tell  the  story  of  my  life  on 
the  battlefield  let  me  relate  a  few  facts  concerning  my 
early  life. 

I  was  born  in  Thompson,  Ct. ,  in  the  section  now  called 
Monahansett  District  in  Putnam,  on  the  twenty-fifth  of 
January,  1847.  My  father  was  Benjamin  F.  Whittemore, 
and  before  her  marriage  my  mother  was  Miss  Harriet 
Handy.  I  was  the  eldest  of  four  children.  My  brothers 
were  Daniel  and  Presby  and  my  sister's  name  Harriet. 
When  I  was  four  years  of  age  my  father  moved  his  family 
to  Plymouth.  I  attended  school  there  until  I  was  nine 
years  old  and  then  went  into  a  Cotton  Mill  to  work. 
Mother  was  not  a  strong  woman  and  so  I  wanted  to  help 
father  in  the  support  of  the  family.  My  first  pay  was 
twenty-five  cents  per  day  and  the  hours  of  work  were 
fourteen.     The  next  year  I  received  fifty  cents  per  day 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


and  kept  this  wage  until  I  was  sixteen  years  of  age.  I 
was  then  promoted  to  second  overseer  at  one  dollar  and 
twenty-five  cents  a  day.  During  this  time  I  was  in  one 
room  under  one  overseer,  Mr.  Benjamin  Holmes. 

When  the  war  broke  out  I  thought  the  country  need- 
ed my  services  but  mother  did  not  wish  me  to  go  to  war 
because  of  my  immature  age.  I  was  seventeen  years  old 
when  father  bade  good-bye  to  mother  and  started  for  the 
southern  conflict  and  I  couldn't  bear  the  thoughts  of  a  well 
and  able  boy  hke  me  letting  father  go  alone  so  I  went  with 
him.  We  enlisted  as  Privates  in  Company  E. ,  58th  Regi- 
ment Massachusetts  Volunteers,  under  Captain  William  E. 
Mason,  and  went  into  camp  at  Readville,  near  Boston. 

As  I  was  not  eighteen  years  of  age,  and  as  I  had 
worked  in  the  mill  so  long  that  I  was  pretty  white  I  found 
it  hard  to  pass  all  examinations.  The  doctor  said  no  at 
first  and  had  me  put  on  the  next  train  for  Boston,  but  I 
was  determined  to  go  so  I  slipped  out  the  back  end  of  car 
and  went  to  the  Provo-marshaFs  ofl[ice.  I  told  him  all  about 
it,  and  how  much  I  wanted  to  go  with  my  father.  I  had 
to  tell  him  what  Company  and  Regiment  father  was  in, 
and  then  he  sent  an  orderly  after  the  Captain.  When  he 
got  there  the  doctor  was  sent  for,  and  between  them  they 
passed  me. 

While  learning  to  be  a  soldier  I  was  put  on  guard 
over  fifteen  men  who  were  chained  to  a  stick  of  timber. 
Orders  were  very  strict  to  keep  them  in  motion,  but  I  was 
very  tender  hearted  and  gave  them  a  chance  to  stand  still. 
I  cautioned  them,  however,  to  keep  a  sharp  watch  for  the 
officer  of  the  day,  in  case  I  did  not  see  him  first,  if  he 
should  come  toward  us.  But  notwithstanding  our  caution 
I  was  caught  twice  in  giving  them  the  privilege  of 
resting  and  then  a  guard  was  sent  to  reheve  me,  and 
I  was  ordered  to  report  at  once  to  headquarters.  I  reported 
at  headquarters  very  much  cast  down,    expecting  to  be 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


severely  reprimanded,  but  instead  the  ofRcer  of  the  day 
told  me  he  had  other  duties  for  me  to  perform. 

Taking  me  to  the  guard-house  he  told  me  to  pick  out 
a  detail  of  twenty  men  and  then  sent  me  out  to  take 
charge  of  the  horses  that  came  in  for  inspection.  While 
the  inspection  was  going  on  we  boys  had  great  fun  in 
watching  the  riders  getting  thrown  off  the  horses,  and  in 
seeing  the  boys  fall  into  the  water. 

At  night  the  boys  who  were  off  duty  had  to  have 
some  place  to  sleep.  We  had  a  good  place  in  the  hay  but 
the  colored  fellows  coolly  took  possession  of  it  before  we 
got  there.  Our  boys  had  a  lively  fight  with  them  and  finally 
drove  them  out.  We  returned  to  camp  the  next  morning 
and  were  then  ordered  to  prepare  to  be  mustered  into  the 
army.  I  was  mustered  into  the  United  States  service  on 
the  twenty-fifth  of  April,  1864. 

While  in  camp  at  Readville  a  great  many  people  came 
to  see  us.  Among  them  was  a  girl  by  the  name  of  Matilda 
J.  Tozer,  from  Norton,  Massachusetts.  One  day  when  I 
was  off  duty  I  saw  her  and  went  around  the  camp  with  her. 
We  did  not  break  camp  until  April  twenty- eighth,  so  I  saw 
her  a  number  of  times.  As  I  had  no  girl  to  write  to,  I 
asked  her  if  I  might  write  to  her  from  the  seat  of  war. 
My  request  was  granted.  Before  we  left  she  gave  me  her 
picture  -and  I  carried  it  in  my  breast  pocket.  She  told  me 
to  look  at  it  just  before  a  battle  and  think  that  she  was  at 
home  praying  to  God  to  watch  over  and  care  for  me.  As 
I  was  brought  up  a  Methodist  and  always  attended  Sun- 
day School,  I  told  her  there  would  also  be  a  prayer  from  a 
soldier  boy  ascending  to  Heaven  from  the  battlefield,  to 
the  same  God,  for  the  same  purpose.  And  thanks  be  to 
God  that  I  am  alive  to-day,  and  in  fair  health,  although  I 
was  hit  with  five  balls. 

The  day  we  broke  camp  at  Readville  was  a  fine  one 
for  April.  The  sun  rose  bright  and  clear,  and  as  we  did 
not  leave  camp  until  after-noon  many  people  came  to  see 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


us.  Among  them  were  my  mother  and  Matilda.  Father 
and  I  spent  the  most  of  the  forenoon  with  them,  but  when 
the  bugle  sounded  ''Fall  in''  father  left  his  wife,  and  I 
left  my  sweet-heart,  and  we  fell  into  line  with  knapsacks 
and  guns  and  marched  to  the  station,  while  the  Regiment 
Band  played  "THE  GIRL  I  LEFT  BEHIND  ME'\  There 
were  many  tears  shed  by  the  mothers  and  sisters,  wives 
and  sweet-hearts,  for  they  did  not  expect  to  see  their  dear 
ones  again.  There  were  many  who  never  did  for  great 
numbers  of  brave  men  gave  their  lives  for  the  flag  they 
loved. 

After  we  got  on  the  train  the  whistle  blew,  the  bell 
rang,  and  the  conductor  waved  his  hand  and  shouted  '  'All 
aboard''  and  we  started  with  much  hand  and  handkerchief 
waving,  and  many  good-byes.  It  did  not  take  long  to  go 
from  their  sight  and  then  we  were  left  to  our  thoughts. 
But  we  were  going  to  fight  for  our  homes  and  for  the 
Union,  and  as  we  passed  through  the  different  towns  and 
stations  and  saw  the  great  crowds  there  to  cheer  us  we 
took  heart  again  and  resolved  that  we  would  do  our  best 
for  our  country. 

We  went  by  train  to  Providence  via  Groton,  and  then 
by  steamer  to  New  York,  then  by  another  steamer  to  South 
Amboy.  Taking  the  train  at  South  Amboy  for  Baltimore 
we  stopped  in  Philadelphia  for  dinner  in  the  old  Cooper 
Shop,  and  were  served  to  one  of  the  best  dinners  that 
Philadelphia  ever  got  up  for  the  old  soldiers.  While  we 
were  eating,  the  young  lady  waiters  took  the  government 
hardtack  from  our  haversacks  and  filled  them  with  sand- 
wiches, pie  and  cake.  Returning  to  the  train  we  went  to 
Baltimore,  where  we  took  a  freight  train,  our  first  one, 
for  Washington. 

I  was  always  looking  for  fun  and  I  generally  found 
what  I  was  looking  for.  The  seats  in  the  cars  ran  length- 
wise.    There  were  only  three  rows  so  we  were  rather 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


crowded.  Some  of  the  boys  knocked  the  boards  off  the 
sides,  and  by  the  time  we  reached  Washington  the  train 
was  very  much  dilapidated.  We  were  a  very  tired  lot  of 
boys,  too,  when  we  were  ordered  out  of  the  car  to  fall  in 
line.  It  had  been  raining  and  the  streets  were  very  muddy. 
We  marched  to  the  Capital  grounds  where  we  were  ordered 
to  rest,  but  orders  came,  in  a  few  minutes,  to  fall  in  Hne 
again.  Then  to  our  surprise  President  Abraham  Lincoln 
opened  the  window  and  putting  out  his  head  he  said,  '  'You 
are  a  fine  looking  lot  of  boys". 

On  April  30th,  we  marched  to  the  Navy  Yard  and 
took  the  steamer  for  Alexandria,  Virginia,  where  we  went 
into  cam.p  until  Monday,  May  2nd  when  we  took  a  f reigb  t 
train  for  Bristow  Station  about  thirty  miles'  distance.  It 
was  raining  pretty  hard  all  the  way,  and  the  thunder  was 
heavy  and  the  lightning  was  sharp.  Many  of  us  were  on 
the  top  of  the  train  so  we  got  wet,  but  we  had  a  sailor  with 
us  from  New  Bedford,  who  said  he  would  show  us  how  to 
manage  a  ship  in  a  storm.  With  the  fun  and  the  rum  that 
was  in  him  he  gave  us  quite  a  picnic. 

We  arrived  at  Bristow  Station  about  seven  o'clock 
in  the  evening.  Stopping  on  a  bank  about  twenty-five 
feet  high  orders  were  given  to  get  out  and  go  down  the  bank 
and  form  in  line.  The  mud  was  nearly  three  inches  deep, 
and  when  the  beys  jumped  out  their  feet  flew  out  from 
under  them  and  ";hey  rolled  down  the  bank.  Captain  Ma- 
son said  to  me,  *  'Boy,  you  get  out  and  I  will  hold  your 
hand,  then  take  this  candle  and  hold  it  until  I  get  out,"  so 
out  I  went,  and  when  he  let  go  of  my  hand  my  feet  went  out 
from  under  me  and  down  the  bank  I  went,  candle  and  all. 
The  Captain  called  to  know  what  the  landing  was  so  I  told 
him  it  was  in  a  pile  of  cattle  bones.  Says  he  ''Hold  the 
candle  for  I  am  coming",  and  he  did  come,  rolling  over  and 
over  a  number  of  times.  We  slept  in  a  pine  grove  that  night 
and  such  a  muddy  lot  as  we  were   in  the  morning.     We 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


were  all  in  our  fighting  trim,  too,  but  orders  came  to  fall 
in  for  rations. 

We  marched  up  to  the  quarter-master's  and  drew  five 
days'  rations,  five  pounds  of  hardtack,  five  pounds  of  salt 
pork,  some  coffee  and  sugar.  I  had  never  eaten  salt  pork  so 
I  threw  mine  away.  Then  we  fell  into  line  and  general 
orders  were  read,  assigning  us  to  First  Brigade,  Second 
Division,  Ninth  Army  Corps.  Colonel  John  I.  Curtin  of 
the  Forty-fifth  Pennsylvania  was  in  command,  but  he  was 
afterward  promoted. 

After  breakfast  we  started  on  our  first  march  of 
twenty  miles,  stopping  at  night  near  Rappahannock  river, 
at  what  was  called  Beatley  Station.  We  were  a  very  tired 
lot,  but  we  were  not  discouraged.  At  five-thirty  o'clock 
the  next  morning  we  broke  camp  and  crossed  the  Rappa- 
hannock River  and  then  went  on  to  the  Rapidan,  crossing 
at  Germania  Ford  on  a  pontoon.  We  had  a  good  deal  of 
fun  in  watching  the  cattle  cross.  We  had  a  drove  with  us 
to  keep  us  in  fresh  meat.  That  night  we  camped  in  the 
woods  about  two  miles  beyond  the  Rapidan  River. 


Matilda  J.  Tozer 

(Nurse  of  the  boy  of  this  story) 


CHAPTER  II 


To  the  Front.    The  Battle  of  the  Wilderness. 


At  two  o'clock  Friday  morning,  May  the  fifth,  we 
started  for  the  battle  of  the  Wilderness,  five  miles  distant- 
The  sun  rose  bright  and  warm,  so  we  were  anticipating  a 
fine  day.  We  were  close  to  the  reports  of  the  big  guns, 
and  as  we  heard  it  reported  that  we  were  to  take  part  in 
the  battle  my  thoughts  went  back  to  my  mother  and  to 
Matilda  Tozer,   and  all  the  loved  ones  at  home. 

We  marched  on,  and  went  into  line  on  the  right. 
While  laying  there  I  saw  Burnside  and  his  staff  come  up 
to  us.  A  shell  passed  under  Burnside's  horse  and  he  turned 
to  his  staff  and  said,  ''Boys,  we  had  better  leave  here''. 

It  was  about  nine  o'clock  in  the  forenoon  when  we 
took  part  in  the  fight.  I  remember  it  well.  It  was  in  the 
woods  and  brush  and  bullbriers.  We  were  ordered  to 
charge  bayonets,  but,  with  the  brush  and  briers  and  smoke 
we  could  not  see  much.  We  got  very  close  together  and 
one  of  the  confederates  hit  me  in  the  face  with  his  fist.  I 
dropped  my  gun  and  we  clinched  and  had  a  rough  and  tum- 
ble fight  until  the  Captain  stopped  it. 

The  first  man  hit  in  our  regiment  was  beside  me. 
His  name  was  Michael  Casey.  He  was  shot  through  the 
body  with  a  minie  ball.  Our  loss  for  that  day  was  seven 
men  killed  and  twenty-three  wounded  and  four  missing. 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


While  in  the  battle  the  rebels  made  a  charge  and 
broke  through  our  lines,  taking  some  of  our  boys  prisoners, 
but  I  dropped  down  beside  an  old  dead  tree  and  played  dead. 

In  the  mad  rush  I  got  trampled  on  but  I  soon  got  a 
chance  to  get  away.  Our  reserve  line  now  came  up,  so  we 
had  a  chance  to  reform  our  line  and  go  back  to  the  battle 
for  the  rest  of  the  day.  After  the  battle  I  went  with  sev- 
eral others  to  carry  water  to  the  wounded.  After  giving 
water  to  the  Union  boys  and  Rebels  alike  I  saw  an  awful 
sight.  There  was  a  conirade  with  me  by  the  name  of  Lendo 
Weeks.  He  gave  a  rebel  some  water  and  then  turned 
to  give  another  man  some,  and  that  man  turned  over  and 
was  trying  to  shoot  Mr.  Weeks.  I  kicked  the  gun 
with  my  foot  so  that  the  ball  went  wide  of  its  mark,  and 
Mr.  Weeks  came  back,  took  the  gun,  and  putting  the  bayo- 
net on  he  killed  the  rebel.  The  sights  after  the  battle 
were  awful  to  look  upon,  awful  beyond  description.  Such 
is  the  Hf  e  of  a  soldier. 

On  Saturday  we  moved  to  a  place  called  Crossroads 
where  we  stayed  until  midright  srd  then  slgrted  for 
Chancellorsville,  arriving  there  about  eight  o'clock  Sunday 
morning.  While  there  we  drevv^  our  rations  again  of  pork 
and  hardtack.  I  was  so  hungry  that  I  sliced  off  some  of 
the  pork  and  ate  v/ith  a  good  v/ill  and  thought  Uncle  Sam 
was  very  good  to  give  it  to  me.  While  on  the  march 
several  of  us  left  the  ranks  and  went  into  a  lot  where  there 
were  a  num.ber  of  sheep.  I  saw  one  coming  tov/ard  m^e  and 
I  thought  if  I  stood  by  the  fence  I  could  get  one,  but  the 
sheep  jumiped  over  my  head  and  the  fellow  behind  rne  got 
it,  so  I  had  to  look  elsewhere. 

As  I  was  always  hungry,  when  going  through  a 
village  or  by  a  house  I  would  stop  and  try  to  get  something 
to  eat.  I  remember  one  time  when  three  of  us  went  down 
cellar  in  a  hotel  and  got  two  hams  and  a  shoulder.  When 
we  got  to  the  top  of  the  stairs  we  rr^et  a  Lieutenant  and  two 


/  a.  i 


CANTEEN 

W.  B.  Whittemore  carried  with   him  and  gave  water 
from  it  to  wounded  Blue  and  Gray  alike. 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


women.  The  women  wanted  us  punished  for  steahng  so 
the  Lieutenant  called  for  a  rope  and  said  he  would  punish 
us.  One  woman  got  a  clothes  line  and  the  officer  tied  a 
a  ham  on  to  one  of  the  boys'  backs,  then  he  took  a  knife, 
shced  off  a  great  shce,  and  said,  ''Boys,  go  and  do  like- 
wise.'' But  the  soldier  said,  ''Not  by  a  damn  sight,"  and 
ran  away  with  our  hams.  While  we  were  there  the  boys 
took  all  their  hens,  pigs  and  horses.  I  know  one  of 
the  boys  got  a  rooster  and  tied  it  on  a  mule's  back,  and 
about  noon  he  went  all  through  the  camp  with  that  rooster 
a  crowing. 

On  Monday,  the  sixth  of  May,  we  started  to  march 
for  Spottsylvania,  marching  until  night,  and  camping  near 
Mine  Run,  While  on  this  march  we  had  orders  not  to  fire 
a  gun,  sing  a  song  or  make  any  noise,  but  I  was  hungry, 
and  I  was  looking  for  fun,  as  usual,  and  I  found  both  at 
the  same  time  in  the  shape  of  a  lot  of  hogs.  When  we  got 
out  of  the  woods  we  saw  a  large  number  of  hogs  in  a  open 
field,  so  the  Company  cook  and  I  started  to  catch  one. 
There  were  all  sizes,  from  a  razor  back  to  a  sucking  pig. 
We  saw  one  weighing  about  fifty  pounds  and  started  after 
him  but  couldn't  catch  him  so  the  cook  drew  his  revolver 
and  shot  it  back  of  the  ear.  The  pig  fell  down,  the  cook 
fell  over  the  pig,  and  I  fell  over  the  cook,  but  we  got  the 
pig.  When  we  got  back  to  the  camp  we  roasted  it.  The 
captain  wanted  to  know  who  fired  the  shot,  but  v/hen  the 
pig  was  done  we  invited  the  captain  and  colonel  to  dinner 
and  there  were  no  more  questions  asked. 

Thursday,  about  three  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  we 
started  again,  reaching  our  destination  about  half  past 
five.  We  made  a  number  of  moves  in  Spottsylvania  before 
we  got  in  the  right  place,  but  finally  we  formed  fine  of 
battle,  and  we  did  some  hard  fighting  from  the  twelfth  to 
the  nineteenth.  There  was  one  man  killed  on  each  side  of 
me,  and  one  who  was  behind  me   was  wounded.     It  was 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


here  that  I  saw  the  Johnnies  use  dead  men  for  shelter. 

After  the  first  day's  fight  was  over  I  went  looking 
for  water.  Going  into  a  swamp  a  short  distance  from  the 
battlefield  I  got  some  water,  and  also  saw  a  cow  and  calf 
hitched  to  a  tree.  When  I  got  back  to  the  company  I  told 
the  captain  of  what  I  had  seen  and  he  said  I  ought  to  have 
brought  it  in,  so  the  company  cook  went  back  with  me  to 
get  them.  We  killed  the  calf  and  ate  it,  but  we  kept  the 
cow  with  us  so  we  could  have  milk.  Later,  some  one  from 
another  regiment  stole  it  from  us  and  ate  it. 

One  day  six  of  us  were  detailed  to  go  and  kill  a  sharp- 
shooter, who  was  causing  a  lot  of  trouble.  After  two  hours 
of  hard  and  dangerous  work  we  killed  him,  but  I  never 
knew  which  one  of  us  hit  him. 

One  night  we  had  a  cold  rain  and  the  wounded 
suffered  much.  I  went  with  a  lot  of  others  that  night  to 
get  our  rations.  A  lieutenant  had  charge  of  the  squad. 
It  was  so  dark  and  rainy  that  we  got  lost  and  finally  brought 
up  in  the  rebel  lines,  half  of  our  boys  getting  taken  pri- 
soners as  a  result.  The  rest  of  us  managed  to  get  away 
and  reach  our  own  regiment. 

On  the  next  day,  I  think  it  was  the  eighteenth,  the 
7th  R.  I.  charged  on  the  rebel  works  and  carried  that  part 
of  the  line  near  the  court  house,  with  the  58th  Massachu- 
setts as  a  support.  Our  loss  for  that  day  was  three  men 
killed,  one  commissioned  officer  and  five  men  wounded. 

About  one  o'clock  in  the  morning  on  the  nineteenth 
we  started  on  the  march,  going  about  four  miles  in  the 
vicinity  of  Mine  Run,  where  we  built  brest  works  and  stayed 
until  Saturday,  the  twenty-first.  While  laying  there  a 
queer  thing  happened  which  I  can  never  forget.  One  of 
the  boys  by  my  side  said  to  me,  ''William,  I  am  going  to  be 
killed  today. "  I  tried  to  talk  him  out  of  the  notion  but 
could  not  do  so.  He  gave  me  his  watch  and  what  money 
he  had,  and  also  the  pictures  of  of  his  wife  and  babies,  and 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


their  address,  asking  me  to  send  them  to  her  after  he  was 
dead.  He  was  killed,  and  with  a  heavy  heart  I  sent  the 
things  to  his  wife. 

On  the  afternoon  of  that  same  day  we  started  on  the 
march.  The  road  was  on  a  curve,  and  in  a  pine  forest 
the  rebels  had  a  battery  placed  in  the  road  on  the  top  of  a 
hill.  When  we  got  near  them  they  opened  fire  on  us,  but, 
we  were  on  the  down-hill  side  so  the  shells  went  over  us. 
No  one  was  hit.  We  took  to  our  heels  and  ran  into  the 
woods  where  we  formed  line  of  battle.  While  waiting  for 
orders  a  shell  v/ent  through  a  small  tree  and  dropped  in 
front  of  us,  the  fuse  still  smoking.  The  smallest  man  in 
Company  D,  picked  it  up,  and  throwing  it  over  his  head, 
said,  *  1  don't  want  that  damned  thing  in  front  of  me  smok- 
thatway."  The  shell  struck  on  the  fuse  and  went  out, 
thus  saving  a  good  many  lives. 

The  rebel  battery  kept  firing  for  some  time.  As 
soon  as  possible  a  union  battery  came  to  our  relief  on 
another  hill,  opening  fire  on  the  rebel  battery.  The  58th 
Massachusetts  was  ordered  to  support  the  union  boys,  but 
before  we  got  there  the  Rebel  Infantry  made  a  charge  and 
succeeded  in  taking  the  union  battery.  When  we  reached 
them  the  rebels  were  using  the  union  guns,  but  the  58th 
Massachusetts  charged  on  them  and  took  the  guns  back. 
I  was  in  that  charge  and  I  came  up  between  the  gun  and 
wheel.  We  were  very  much  mixed  up.  One  reb  tried  to 
stick  a  bayonet  into  me  but  missed  me  and  the  man  behind 
me  shot  him.  Another  tried  to  club  me  with  his  gun,  but  he 
too  missed  me,  and  then  I  hit  him  on  the  back  with  the  butt 
of  my  gun  and  he  fell  down.  About  that  time  our  boys 
turned  the  gun  around  and  the  wheel  ran  over  his 
neck.  The  gun  was  loaded,  so  one  of  our  boys  pulled  the 
lanyard  and  that  made  an  opening.  I  got  out  of  the  way 
of  the  gun  and  we  drove  them  back  into  the  woods. 


CHAPTER  III. 


Skirmishes,  Wounded  and  Furlough  Home. 


We  stayed  in  the  woods  until  Sunday  morning,  the 
twenty-second.  We  started  on  the  march  at  about  three 
o'clock  A.  M.,  going  toward  the  North  Annie  River,  and 
we  halted  at  Gaines  Station  about  ten  o'clock  for  breakfast. 
Then  we  continued  our  march  for  fifteen  miles,  stopping 
at  Bowling  Green  for  the  night.  Monday  morning  we 
broke  camp  and  marched  to  the  North  Annie  river,  reach- 
ing there  about  eight  o'clock  that  night.  We  had  marched 
eighteen  miles.  On  Tuesday  we  found  the  enemy  in  strong 
forces  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  river. 

As  I  remember  it  we  went  across  a  corduroy  bridge 
under  a  heavy  artillery  fire,  but,  through  the  good  work 
our  batteries  did,  no  one  was  hit.  Our  batteries  also 
silenced  the  guns  in  the  fort  and  then  we  formed  in  line 
and  went  up  the  hill  by  the  fort,  crossed  the  road,  and  go- 
ing into  the  woods  we  built  breastworks.  It  began  to 
rain  very  hard,  with  heavy  thunder  and  very  sharp  lightn- 
ing. One  bolt  struck  a  white  oak  tree,  under  which  were 
a  number  of  our  boys.  Some  were  killed,  and  some  were 
thrown  into  a  mud  hole  near  by.  We  thought  the  whole 
southern  army  had  dropped  on  to  us.  It  was  now  so  dark 
we  could  not  see,  and  the  rain  was  so  drenching  we  could 
not  keep  our  powder  dry,  so  we  had  to  stop  firing.  To- 
ward evening  the  storm  went  over,  and  pickets  were  then 
posted  for  the  night. 

We  remained  in  the  breastworks  Wednesday  and 
Thursday.     While  we  were  building  the  breastworks  I  was 


W.  B.  Whittemore 

(At  time  of  Enlistment) 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


hit  in  my  right  wrist,  and  so  was  laid  off  from  duty  a  few 
days,  but  I  stayed  with  the  boys  just  the  same.  While  lay- 
ing in  the  breastworks  a  commissioned  officer  came  up  and 
said  he  wanted  to  see  the  rebels.  I  told  him  to  keep  down 
or  he  would  get  killed  but  he  said  the  rebels  had  not  mould- 
ed the  ball  that  would  kill  him.  Just  then  a  ball  hit  him 
in  the  forehead  and  took  the  top  of  his  head  off. 

The  enemy's  main  line  was  about  seventy  rods  away 
and  the  pickets  only  about  eight  rods  apart  at  night.  We 
recrossed  the  bridge  and  burned  it,  marched  about  four 
miles,  and  then  halted  until  seven  o'clock  Friday  morning 
when  we  marched  until  midnight.  I  was  so  tired  and 
hungry  I  thought  I  should  die.  I  lay  down  to  rest  without 
any  supper  but  toward  morning  I  got  up  and  made  some 
coffee  and  had  some  hardtack  and  pork  to  eat. 

On  Saturday,  the  twenty-eighth,  we  were  full  of 
fight  so  we  started  early  for  the  Pamunky  river,  crossing 
it  at  night  on  a  pontoon,  and  then  marching  two  miles 
further  to  a  place  where  we  camped  for  the  night.  We 
marched  twenty-five  miles  since  morning.  There  were  only 
a  few  of  us  who  went  into  camp  that  night  but  the  rest 
came  up  within  the  next  two  days. 

On  the  march  I  stopped  in  the  woods  at  a  nice  little 
spring  but  found  a  guard  there.  There  were  a  lot  of  our 
boys  who  wanted  to  fill  their  canteens  so  I  grabbed  the 
guard  and  threw  him  into  the  water,  then  we  filled  our 
canteens  and  went  away  happy. 

Sunday,  the  twenty-ninth,  found  us  again  on  the 
march.  We  marched  until  two  o'clock  and  then  camped 
near  Tollapotomy  Creek.  Just  before  we  got  our  supper 
we  had  a  hard  shower  and  the  rebels  came  down  to  the 
river  and  began  to  tear  up  the  bridge,  so  we  were  ordered 
down  there  to  stop  it.  We  succeeded,  and  then  pitched 
camp  for  the  night.  The  rain  continued  all  night  and  we 
were  a  very  wet  company  of  boys  in  the  morning.     We  got 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


some  fence  rails  to  build  a  fire,  but  before  we  got  warm, 
orders  came  to  fall  in  and  we  started  for  Cold  Harbour, 
arriving  there  Tuesday,  the  thirty-first.  We  moved  into 
a  number  of  positions,  and  on  June  2nd  had  some  skirmish- 
ing. On  June  3rd  we  went  into  the  fight  in  good  earnest; 
about  five  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  was  hit  on  the  head, 
receiving  a  shght  wound,  and  about  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon  I  was  hit  in  the  right  shoulder.  The  ball  passed 
through  me  causing  a  very  bad  wound,  so  I  could  not  get 
off  the  field,  consequently  I  lay  there  for  three  days.  I 
was  then  taken  to  the  field  hospital  and  from  therB  I  was 
sent  to  White  House  Landing. 

While  on  our  way  to  the  landing  we  stopped  in  a 
cherry  orchard  and  had  cherries  for  dinner.  There  was  a 
man  sitting  beside  me,  with  only  one  leg.  I  kept  talking 
to  him  and  as  he  did  not  answer  I  looked  at  him  and  to  my 
surprise  I  found  him  dead.  When  we  reached  the  landing 
we  were  put  on  board  the  steam  boat  Connecticut  and  sent 
to  Washington,  D.  C. 

When  I  went  on  board  I  had  my  wound  dressed  for 
the  first  time.  My  clothes  were  stiff  with  blood  and  had 
to  be  cut  off  of  me.  I  had  the  girl's  picture  in  my  pocket. 
It  was  so  covered  with  blood  the  nurse  thought  it  was  spoiled 
but  she  took  it  and  washed  it,  and  I  have  that  same  picture 
today  and  it  is  still  in  good  condition. 

In  Washington  there  was  a  rebel  who  had  a  bed 
next  to  mine.  He  had  been  wounded  in  the  leg.  One  day 
he  wrote  a  letter  to  my  mother  and  also  one  to  the  girl, 
telling  them  that  I  had  been  wounded-  I  stayed  in  Wash- 
ington a  week  and  was  then  transferred  to  Philadelphia. 
We  stopped  in  Baltimore  for  dinner,  but  I  did  not  want 
the  government  dinner  so  I  stood  leaning  up  against  the 
car.  I  saw  a  young  lady  coming  up  the  street,  and  she 
came  straight  to  me  and  said  her  mother  wanted  me  to 
come  to  her  house.     It  was  only  a  few  steps  away  but  I 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War, 


was  so  weak  r  could  not  walk  alone  so  the  young  lady 
helped  me  along.  When  we  got  to  the  house  she  gave  me 
cake,  pie,  and  coffee  and  then  led  me  back  to  the  train. 

We  arrived  in  Philadelpha  during  the  night.  I  was 
put  in  the  receiving  hospital.  The  next  morning  I  was 
looking  out  of  the  window  and  I  saw  a  large  crowd  of  peo- 
ple. I  asked  what  the  trouble  was,  and  was  told  that  the 
people  wanted  to  get  pass  to  come  in  and  see  their  loved 
ones.  One  woman  asked  me  if  I  knew  her  son.  She  told 
me  his  name  but  I  have  forgotten  it.  I  knew  him  and  had 
lain  beside  him.  He  was  mortally  wounded,  I  got  his 
mother  a  pass  and  gave  it  to  her  from  the  window.  She 
came  in  bringing  a  basket  of  good  things.  I  showed  her 
his  bed  and  she  clasped  him  in  her  arms  and  kissed  him, 
then  told  him  v/hat  she  had  brought.  He  told  her  to  give 
the  things  to  me,  for,  he  said,  '  1  have  eaten  my  last  meal. 
I  shall  soon  be  where  there  is  no  war."  He  passed  away 
soon,  with  his  mother's  loving  arms  around  him.  She  took 
his  body  North  with  her,  and  I  ate  the  good  things  that 
loving  hands  had  made  for  another. 

I  was  put  in  Harwood  hospital  and  there  my  wound 
was  dressed  and  well  taken  care  of  by  a  doctor  and  a  young 
lady  who  came  in  every  morning.  In  two  weeks  I  was 
able  to  get  a  furlough  home.  While  in  the  hospital  I  sent 
another  letter  home,  this  one  written  by  the  nurse,  whose 
name  was  Mary  Schofield.  My  mother  sent  Matilda's 
father,  William  Tozer,  after  me.  When  he  got  to  me  with 
cakes  and  pies,  and  two  letters,  I  was  very  glad,  but  I  had 
to  wait  a  few  days  for  the  furlough  to  get  there.  When  it 
did  come  Mr.  Tozer  and  I  started  for  home  in  a  downpour 
of  rain.  We  stayed  in  the  Astor  House  in  New  York  that 
night.  My  wound  bled  so  much  during  the  night  that  I 
had  to  be  helped  down  the  stairs  and  into  the  hack  the 
next  morning  to  go  to  the  depot. 

We  took  the  Boston  train  via  the  Providence  road  in 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


a  car  fixed  up  to  carry  wounded  soldiers  and  I  had  a 
good  bunk  as  far  as  Mansfield,  Mass.  There  we  left  the 
train  at  eleven  o'clock  P.  M.  on  July  third,  1864,  just  one 
month  from  the  time  I  was  wounded.  At  Mansfield  we 
took  a  team  for  Norton,  four  miles  away,  where  my  mother 
was  living. 

I  had  a  linen  duster  on  over  my  uniform  and  when 
I  walked  into  the  house  mother  did  not  know  me.  I  went 
into  the  house  while  Mr.  Tozer  was  settling  for  the  horse 
and  carriage  and  mother  wanted  to  know  if  I  was  one  of 
the  men  who  were  bringing  her  boy  home.  I  told  her  that 
I  was  and  then  she  wanted  me  to  help  bring  him  into  the 
house  while  she  got  the  bed  ready  to  lay  him  on.  About 
that  time  Mr.  Tozer  came  in  and  said,  "What  do  you  think 
of  the  boy?''  Mother  said,  "Where  is  he?"  then  he  took 
the  duster  off  of  me  and  there  I  stood  in  my  uniform. 
Mother  hugged  me  and  and  kissed  me  and  cried,  and 
kissed  me  and  hugged  me  and  cried  some  more. 

The  next  morning,  the  fourth,  my  wound  started 
bleeding  again.  I  had  two  doctors  and  they  worked  over 
me  two  hours  and  a  half,  cutting  and  scraping,  before  they 
could  stop  the  fiow  of  blood.  I  lay  in  bed  for  three  months 
unable  to  help  myself  or  turn  over  in  bed,  but  I  was  well 
cared  for  by  mother  and  Matilda.  When  I  was  able  I  was 
transferred  to  Readville  Hospital,  near  Boston,  and  I  stay- 
ed there  until  I  was  discharged  from  the  service.  In  the 
Hospital  were  five  young  students  who  wanted  to  take  my 
arm  out  of  the  socket.  They  told  me  it  would  never  be  of 
any  use  to  me.  I  went  to  the  head  surgeon  about  it  and 
he  said  no,  and  said  it  might  possibly  be  saved  and  be  a 
good  arm.  When  I  left  the  hospital  I  went  to  the  family 
doctor  and  let  him  work  on  it,  and  after  two  years'  time  I 
could  use  it.  Now  it  is  a  great  deal  better  than  a  wooden 
one.  When  I  paid  the  doctor  for  his  work  he  told  me  to  be 
a  good  boy  for  he  would  not  see  me  again.     A  few  days 


Harriett  Whittemore 

(Mother  of  the  boy  of  this  story) 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


later  as  he  was  putting  on  his  coat  he  told  his  wife  he  felt 
a  pain  near  his  heart.  He  sat  down  in  a  chair  and  died 
within  two  minutes. 

I  was  discharged  on  January  13,  1865.  As  soon  as 
I  was  able  to  work  I  went  into  a  cotton  mill  as  overseer. 
I  went  around  with  Matilda  for  two  and  a  half  years  but 
through  some  misunderstanding  we  drifted  apart  and  I 
came  to  Putnam,  Connecticut,  where  I  now  live,  and  where 
I  have  a  family  of  my  own  which  I  take  comfort  with. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


Army  Life  and  Experiences. 


The  life  of  a  soldier  is  not  always  pleasant.  There 
are  times  when  it  does  seem  as  if  his  endurance  was  almost 
to  an  end.  As  the  old  saying  is,  "Give  a  soldier  what  he 
wants  to  eat  and  he  will  go  most  any  where  for  you,  but 
when  he  is  hungry,  he  is  not  worth  much.^'  I  remember 
one  of  those  times  when  the  Ninth  corps  was  put  to  the 
test.  It  was  in  one  of  those  rainy  spells  when  the  army 
wagons  could  not  keep  up  with  the  boys  on  the  march,  for 
the  roads  were  so  bad  and  muddy.  Of  course,  we  got  out 
of  hardtack  and  pork.  General  Burn  side  fed  his  corps  on 
southern  corn  on  the  ear  for  three  days.  We  had  one 
ear  apiece.  It  was  not  much  to  eat  for  the  work  we  had 
to  do,  so  we  went  into  camp  to  wait  until  our  wagon  train 
could  catch  up.  Now  I  was  very  hungry,  so  I  started  out 
to  see  what  I  could  find,  but  being  in  the  woods  and  away 
from  all  houses  I  did  not  find  anything  until  I  got  out  of 
the  woods.  Then  I  came  to  an  artillery  camp  and  they 
had  drawn  their  rations.  As  they  had  a  number  of  boxes 
piled  up  by  the  side  of  one  of  their  guns  I  went  and  tried 
to  buy  some  but  they  would  not  sell  any.  So  I  went  back 
to  the  company  and  told  the  captain  and  he  said,  '  *I  wish 
you  could  have  got  some,  for  we  are  all  getting  very  hun- 
gry. ' '  Then  I  told  him  if  I  could  have  a  heutenant  and 
two  men  to  go  with  me,  we  would  bring  back  a  box  of  the 


A  CAMP  GUARD 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


hardtack.  He  said,  *  'How  will  you  do  it,  you  told  me  you 
could  not  buy  it/'  'Iwill  do  it  like  this,  I  said/'  Then 
the  captain  called  the  first  lieutenant  and  I  unfolded  my 
plan,  * 'We  will  all  four  go  to  the  edge  of  the  woods  and 
the  two  men  with  guns  will  stand  there  while  the  lieuten- 
ant and  I  will  go  and  try  to  buy  a  box."  Of  course  there 
is  a  guard  on  it  and  they  will  refuse  to  sell  it,  so  I  will  step 
up  to  the  pile  and  put  a  box  on  my  shoulder.  The  guard 
may  want  to  shoot  me,  and  if  so,  the  lieutenant  will  draw 
his  revolver  and  say,  "If  you  shoot  I  will  shoot  also,"  so  I 
will  walk  off  with  the  box  and  when  I  get  to  the  place 
where  the  two  men  are  I  will  have  them  step  out  and 
keep  the  guard  covered  with  their  guns  until  the  lieutenant 
joins  us  then  we  can  all  run  away  before  they  can  catch  us. " 
The  captain  said,  "It  is  very  risky,  but  if  the  lieutenant 
wants  to  try  it,  pick  your  men  and  go."  So  we  did  and  it 
worked  all  right.  We  got  the  hardtack,  and  the  artillery 
boys  fired  at  us  but  being  in  the  woods,  we  did  not  care 
much  for  they  had  been  as  hungry  before  that,  as  we  were 
then.  When  we  got  back  to  the  company,  we  soon  ate  up 
the  hardtack  and  felt  better.  The  next  day  our  teams  came 
up  and  we  drew  rations  and  ate  our  fill  and  was  then  a 
happy  lot  of  boys  and  ready  for  more  fight. 

The  heroism  did  not  all  lay  with  the  soldiers  for  the 
wives  and  mothers  and  sweethearts  had  some  privations 
and  hardships  to  endure.  Think  of  them  bidding  their 
husbands  and  sons  good-bye,  cheering  them  with  loving, 
hopeful  words,  when  they  knew  they  might  never  meet 
again  on  earth.  "We  will  pray  for  you,"  came  from  many 
lips,  and  the  same  promise  came  from  the  hearts  of  those 
whose  voices  were  too  choked  with  tears  to  make  words 
audible.  It  is  my  firm  belief  that  those  prayers  were 
answered. 

When  in  the  battle  of  Spottsylvania  I  remember  tell- 
ing the  Captain  I  would  not  get  hit  in  that  battle   for  my 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


mother  was  at  that  time  praying  for  God's  care  over  me. 
I  was  trying"  to  lead  a  man  out  of  the  fight.  His  leg  was 
broken  so  he  could  not  walk.  The  Captain  told  another 
man  to  help  me  so  we  both  took  him  up,  but  before  we 
could  get  away  five  more  balls  hit  the  wounded  man,  kill- 
ing him  in  our  arms.     I  was  not  hit  once. 

I  found  out  later,  by  writing  home  to  mother,  that 
she  was  praying  for  me  at  that  time,  and  I  think  in  answer 
to  her  prayers  I  was  saved.  There  were  others,  too,  who 
felt  the  same  about  those  prayers  from  home. 

My  father,  Benjamin  F.  Whittemore,  was  with  me 
when  I  was  wounded,  and  he  stayed  with  the  company.  I 
tried  to  get  away  but  I  got  only  about  fifty  yards  before  I 
fainted.  Then  I  was  picked  up,  put  on  a  stretcher,  and 
carried  about  a  hundred  yards,  but  the  balls  were  coming 
so  fast  they  could  not  carry  me  any  further,  so  I  laid  there 
for  three  days  before  I  was  again  taken  up  and  carried  to 
the  field  hospital.  ^ 

The  ball  hit  me  in  the  right  shoulder,  went  under 
the  shoulder  blade  and  come  out  of  my  back.  It  left  a 
piece  of  my  blouse  and  shirt  in  the  wound,  thus  causing 
me  a  great  deal  of  pain  for  two  weeks  before  it  was  re 
moved. 

While  I  lay  on  the  battle-field  I  could  not  move  or 
speak.  When  they  cleaned  up  the  battle-field  I  heard  a 
surgeon  say, ''Here  are  three  dead  men.  Dig  a  hole  big 
enough  and  put  them  in.'' But  when  they  picked  me  up 
they  found  me  warm,  so  I  was  carried  to  the  field  hospital 

Father  stayed  with  the  regiment  until  July  30, 1864 
when  he  was  taken  prisoner  with  a  number  of  others,  at 
the  Mine  Explosion,  in  front  of  Petersburg,  Virginia.  He 
was  kept  a  few  days  in  Libby  Prison  and  then  sent  to 
Salisbury,  North  Carolina.  There  he  stayed  five  months. 
It  was  near  the  close  of  the  war,  and  as  General  Sherman 
was  marching  through  that  part  of  the  country  it  made 


B.   F.  Whittemore 

(Father  ufthe    boy  ot  ihis  story   who    served 
in  the  Wiir  with  him.; 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War, 


them  very  short  of  food.  Consequently,  they  fed  the 
prisoners  on  uncooked  cornmeal,  and  not  very  often  either. 
Sometimes  four  days  elapsed  before  they  were  fed  again. 

When  father  was  taken  prisoner  he  weighed  one 
hundred  and  eighty  pounds,  when  he  paroled  he  weighed 
only  nintey  pounds.  But  in  spite  of  all  the  hardships  he 
reached  home  in  safety  and  lived  to  be  seventy-one  years 
old.  Then  he  answered  the  last  Roll  Call.  He  had  made 
his  peace  with  God  years  before  and  he  was  just  as  ready 
to  answer  God^s  call  as  he  was  ready  to  answer  to  Abe 
Lincoln's  call. 

While  father  was  in  prison  he  saw  five  thousand, 
five  hundred  forty-nine  men  carried  out,  starved  to  death 
in  five  months. 

I  remember  one  of  our  marches.  It  was  a  fine  day, 
hot  and  dusty,  and  about  noon  we  halted  for  dinner.  As 
we  left  the  road  and  went  into  the  woods  for  shade  we  saw 
another  regiment  passing.  I  was  looking  to  see  it  pass 
when  I  saw  one  of  my  school  mates  among  the  men.  He 
stopped  to  speak  to  me,  and  after  he  left  me  he  had  gone 
only  about  three  hundred  yards  when  a  shell  from  a  rebel 
gun  cut  him  in  two.  He  was  David  Taylor,  from  Plymouth 
a  promising  young  man  whom  everyone  liked. 

Another  school  mate,  David  Valler,  in  the  same 
regiment  with  me  was  taken  sick  and  carried  to  the  hospi- 
tal where  he  died.  Still  another  by  the  name  of  WilHam 
L.  Douglas,  deserted,  came  home,  and  proved  to  be  a 
better  politician  than  a  soldier  for  he  was  elected 
Governor  of  Massachusetts  by  the  Democrats.  He  is  the 
maker  of  the  Douglas  shoe,  and  a  very  smart  man. 

We  read  of  some  fathers  and  mothers  giving  all 
of  their  sons  to  fight  for  the  Union.  Father's  next  door 
neighbor,  Elisha  Vaughn,  had  a  family  of  twenty-one 
children,  and  when  the  war  broke  out  seven  of  the  boys 
enlisted  in  the  army  at  the  same  time.     They  all  lived  to 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


come  home,  too,  and  none  of  them  were  hurt  very  badly. 
The  w^orst  was  Fred  Vaughn,  who  had  a  tree  fall  and  hit 
him  when  building  breastworks.  After  he  came  home  he 
got  as  well  as  ever.  His  mother  told  mine  that  she  would 
give  more  of  her  boys  if  they  were  old  enough. 

After  one  of  the  battles,  when  the  field  was  cleaned 
up,  and  the  dead  were  buried,  and  just  before  sunset,  our 
band  came  out  on  a  knoll.  They  could  be  seen  by  everyone 
Blue  and  Gray  alike,  and  played,  ''Hail  Columbia  Happy 
Land, '^  and  when  it  was  finished  the  Confederate  band 
came  out  and  played  "Dixie.''  The  cheers  from  the  Blue 
and  Gray  alike  was  almost  deafening.  When  all  was  still 
again  both  bands  came  out  and  played,  ''HOME  SWEET 
HOME"  together.  In  speaking  of  this  scene  General 
John  B.  Gordon,  of  the  Confederate  army,  said,  '  'The 
solemn  and  swelling  cadence  of  these  old  familiar  notes  was 
caught  by  both  armies,  and  their  joint  and  loud  acclama- 
tions made  the  climax  of  one  of  the  most  inspiring  scenes 
ever  witnessed  in  war." 

On  June  second,  while  we  were  resting,  the  New 
York  Zuave  Regiment  came  up  and  went  by  us  and  charg- 
ed on  a  battery  in  the  woods.  It  was  a  fine  regiment  and 
a  full  one.  One  man  had  his  small  son  with  him.  I  tried 
to  persuade  him  to  let  the  boy  stay  with  me  until  he  came 
back,  but  they  went  in  the  charge  together.  The  boy 
looked  fine  in  his  bright  little  uniform.  The  father  was 
killed  and  the  boy  came  back  crying  very  bitterly. 

In  closing  this  story  I  will  say  that  most  of  it  is  from 
memory,  but  the  losses  are  regimental  losses  taken  from 
history.  When  I  sit  down  by  myself  these  things  will  come 
up  fresh  in  my  mind.  I  am  a  member  of  the  G.  A.  R.  Post, 
and  when  we  meet  we  like  to  sit  and  chat,  swapping  stories 
for  it  keeps  them  fresh  in  our  memories.  But,  as  we  are 
all  growing  old,  and  as  we  shall  soon  have  to  answer  to 


Reminiscences  of  the  Civil  War. 


that  last  roll  call  and  enter  that  land  where  there  are  no 
wars,  I,  for  one,  wish  to  leave  these  reminiscences  in  such 
form  that  my  children  and  grand-children  may  tell  the 
stories  of  the  Civil  War, 


THE  END. 


JUsmtmasaaiasBssKrL: 


University  of 
Connecticut 

Libraries 


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